


Haunted

by Drag0nst0rm



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8347708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: Dead doesn't always mean gone.





	1. The Ghosts Mean Well (Mostly)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Merlin.

The castle was haunted.

That was the warlord who managed to overthrow Gwen and Arthur's descendant said. Haunted, cursed, something. He said he could hear screams coming from the courtyard, and he refused to go back to the dungeons after the first disastrous time. It was cursed.

The manner of his death seemed to back that up. It was possible that they could have removed the crown from his head, but given the general smell of burning flesh and the way it seemed almost menacing . . . That was one relic, golden or no, that could rest in his grave.

The castle was haunted.

The librarian believed it, a century later. He could hear the ghosts talking in the halls, and the shelves whispered to him. He didn't mind. It got lonely, and it was better to have strange company than none at all.

The castle was haunted.

The old soldier knew it as soon as he walked inside. The old battles still raged in echoes on the stones. He fled from them at first, but he needed work, so he didn't go far, and in time he took comfort in them. There was an honor and a clarity there that was almost refreshing compared to his own life.

The castle was haunted.

The serving maid's daughter took great comfort in the fact. The laughing voices cheered her up, and she could swear that one had a soft spot for her. Every time one of those awful bullies tried to pull something on her, he would protect her. They were friends, and when she took ill and couldn't breathe right, she wasn't scared, because her ghosts were there to keep her company, and she didn't particularly mind joining them.

The castle was haunted.

The archaeologists didn't really believe that, of course, but it almost seemed to breathe with history, and there were some very strange patterns in the dust.

The castle was haunted, and yes, Gwaine, that did come with weightier responsibilities than pulling pranks on the living. Really.

The archaeologists began a minor cold war with one another over the missing elements of their lunches. Arthur would have scolded Gwaine for stealing the apples slices, but seeing as he'd accepted plundered chocolate from Merlin, he thought he'd better not.


	2. Relics

There was a cell down in the dungeons where, if you sat in just the right corner, you could hear a girl sobbing.

No one ever noticed the bracelet, still hidden amongst the straw.

There was a grate in the kitchen that the cooks learned not to put any food under. At first they blamed the serving boys, but after the head chef caught a glimpse of a chicken leg floating up to the grate, she just gave up. Any food put under there was an intentional sacrifice, and she planned accordingly.

There were a lot of quirks like that in the castle, some deadly, some harmless. Not all were directly attributable to ghosts, either; there was a section of wall with old protection runes that not even gunpowder managed to breach, and there were rocks down in the caverns beneath it that folk said were still warm from dragon fire stoked with rage.

Some you learned to avoid, some to accept, and some to embrace. There was one, however, that outranked them all. After all, you could placate the poltergeist with apples and use the cursed crossbow when the enemies were so thick you didn't really care who you hit, but there was just nothing to be done about this one. All attempts had failed. At long last, they'd been forced to abandon the room.

Oh, it was safe enough during the day but at night . . . They'd all rather sleep in the weeping cell, thanks.

It was a shame. They said it had once been a king's bedroom.

But no amount of prestige could ever make up for those horrible, ear piercing, not-tangible-enough-to-smother-with-a-pillow snores.


End file.
